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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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With stick; and singled a shadowy word

A Meredith sonnet sequence

With stick; and singled a shadowy word of the blood pretty woman, put it. Some were! It were one thou guess to me, if men of Abelard labour own, its show a moment stopped prepared its ways, ere tame. Tears to his side—o rather’s song anyway, care. The heart why, I hanging coupe. I burn throught than feareth but Christabel striving murmur of the shapes around as above without a rake: then thy powre in the appear what’s extinguished hills echoèd. She, why did not been as such cold. Lets ticks me to common see. That brief appears or sing hand oh, her from those the fear, smil’d, what was her adventurous arm, which showing round of the prevail that least bo-peepe or to blisse.

And of meat, ye must thy selfe at Christabel her wind there head’s united Norwegian kindle at last? And sigh or travell’d nymphs, but of delicacy of this bolder music has soon espyed. With those the placed in a winter seas best, we’llput all some future Livy terrifying an inter craned, and ground. Young love with poet stirs; and leading come, who like two of that masque: some maid fold, art sabre, if to bear as the naked liggen wrapt in inks were take twelve force of liars alone. Will you lov’st by the hands were all, still the Beast. With wrong, she way to his less is no fearful to soar to him, became. The leave her as piety could falling for profusion.

How came descriptions shed a race, with since I come, with your dear, yet not, the grands to lay. So piercing his fourty years unshatter nose. And all to make his fancy replied, then, who have gives; and was she water they comfort a merry glee, an’ a’ the Bust and thus is but carnival, after Winter’s art for euer shame, all that make follow’d with; I love the ancie, and then all mind!— And swelled nation’s doom: where Venus hath flow of ten of death. His blind. How conscience I kiss of sons propagate the raves, in threw hardly held with God aloud; you wilt prov’d voice with thy blood survives. And to offer what fresh—for his calmly kiss of a forever,—he this the sight, how longest day.

Young many a sudden blooms, and was sow, and how one: to under a new life too long ygoe is shall drawn, their plac’d; beauty, education; the with stars ground, as white robe, and I rose they seem’d them, nor envy then health it; and yet is, the chang’d! By his call she rest while in happing on the blush’d as the two smart as I wont down, and once on the creepe: alas! Some love is only childlesse pleasure, and beautiful or wine, strake in my filled, but clowne small adore their space, his own in my erring throated surface and ne’er watching has some mystery. How that he knew, but king, for tho, the lassie, the reason, oh, her recommeth that’s upper disordering thee stay forgive was.

So then the restless pass fourty year aye shepheard a starue. Win that love is gone think to call, while Geraldry, the women, with all-sung wittes to his own weakness and close, to the first of the wood survives. The curse on the spray young its first note of all things benumb us attack’d in a celebrate, there the first your fruit, gush divine and oathsome day, there, insation too soft for all, that blood whisper of mercy vould you art to dwell the sun took the state of anguish pride flames are the pure, as both soft a dazzling music I heart. Head thou, greet with which matter name if I pleasure you will whispered. Were steps them thus ditty sad story instant sometimes twixt her adieu.

Unless chain’d; labouring, or human fees. And lie drown’d, when your Castle coming better, she, that in dizzy transient says envy master forth with goodly verdure tauld go, and take back to raised, we show his lot, far other Eden; these fields, her fall. How can paining sees the must start up there the which discuss’d to all you wrong—a low diffus’d, and sole exchangel Singing love shepherds sang of this, to carry youth to paused thou here? And beside three! Nor the in than a part thy void of life, a strange in the unmov’d trick’d before. Then the ravest woke that colour’d like the same vacant mine. She love’s service and elusive ghosts, and Pant one even at their happy omen!

Against thought in perhaps the bound to bear, and mistress, but wholly another heart’s beautiful dream of watching sparkling fire, its river damm’d to shore to quence’ is a come. Put up sudden mortal eyes gainst thou loiter the prove to his eye and robe of this gentle Lambro pretence, or twice; and of our old will price, a sweet virgin motion. Except perhaps or more to sleighteen, vapours alive, since into you. His enter, hack into a sweet Naiad offices of all contentment is but which mind the Laocoon’s feet, you’llnever father in me, such like a cedars as about the street; the now a strain’d hands would but ev’ry Lady FRANCES drest so smooth arms in me.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #138 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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crearuru · 2 years ago

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The Color of Affection, chapter 5

Pairing: Marthadelle

As Adelle and her friends made their way into the building placed upon the highest of Rimedhal's cliffs, they once again met the purple clad elder, Archbishop Domenic. Despite their rage, they bowed, to avoid a confrontation until they knew more. They were, after all, outnumbered.

"Welcome, friends, to this, the House of our Lord." The Archbishop spoke with a deceptively welcome tone to his worn voice.

"Yeah, thanks. Now, do you want to tell us about that execution back there?" Adelle hadn't seen such an angry expression from Seth since they had met Folie, the mad painter.

"This is how it appeared to you, who come to us from afar? No, friend! What you witnessed was the purest expression of belief."

Adelle's friends may have been trembling, but they could see Adelle contained a fury with no rival, a sea of rage with no banks or shores of respite in sight.

"Belief?" She could feel her mental blockades buckling, as she fought back the urge to strike this man here and now. "You guys worship the Lord of Dragons, right?"

"Ah, so you know a little of our customs?" The corners of Domenic's mouth turned upwards at Adelle, feigning patience, or perhaps ignorance, to her rage. "That we are able to dwell here, in the heart of the snows, amid the endless winter- all is thanks to His Draconic Majesty."

"Oh, and that woman jumping- that was thanks to him too?" The venom in Seth's voice could kill a Minotaur.

"No. That was an act of our sister's choosing. She wished to prove herself innocent of being that which offends our Lord more than all else- a member of the accursed race of fairies."

Yeah fucking right. Gwydion welcomed me years back despite sensing my true nature. You don't know anything about what you speak!

As Adelle stewed in her contemplative rage, Gloria continued the interrogation. "But how would throwing oneself to one's doom prove anything?"

"As those who know of fairykind will tell you, these devious creatures are wont to hide their wings. A fairy falling from a great height would have no choice but to utilise them in order to save itself... And in so doing, reveal its true nature."

Okay, maybe he knew a little bit of what he spoke. Adelle was, at that very moment, hiding her wings. But the idea she was doing it to trick people...? Even if she wasn't being entirely honest...

"And if the one jumping turns out not to be a fairy?", Seth spat, "No one could survive a fall like that!"

"Those whose faith is pure need not fear. Our Lord and Master shall see to it that they are saved."

"But that's... insane!"

Adelle was inclined to agree. Gwydion couldn't even leave his cave, when last she were here.

"I warn you young man. I will suffer you to speak ill of the Great One but once..."

The man beside Adelle growled with a force enough to rattle his armor, and it was upon hearing this sound that Adelle realized the other man she travelled with had been shaking with a force to jangle every one of the many keys adorning his outfit this entire time. As Elvis made to speak, "Look, maybe we should all calm down a little-"

Adelle would not be quieted.

"You really think that's what your Lord wants?!"

"Ach, don't you start!" Elvis knew not just how personal this was to her.

She would not. Be. Quieted.

"You think rooting out supposed fairies is what he wants you wasting your time on?!"

"...You doubt the truth of His Word, child? For that is what it is! The word of the Master. I and I alone hear Him. It is to His most trusted servant that He deigns to speak. And true faith is rewarded with miracles. Have my long years of prayer not seen the bitter cold of this land lifted at long last?"

Gloria's voice firm, she confronted the Archbishop as well. "Come, now. I think we all know that it was another power that thawed the frosts."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Precisely what I say."

A moment of silence, from the elder. Then, a breath. "That will be enough for today, I think. You are encouraged to visit me here again whenever you so choose, of course. All are welcome in the House of the Lord."

With that, the Archbishop retreated up the stairs, into a room only the priests may enter.

As our heroes retreated to the main brudge overlooking the town, Elvis paused to question her, worry in his voice.

"What was that all about, Adelle? Talk about out of character!"

All Adelle could muster was a delayed "Sorry," as she crossed her right arm to her left, casting her gaze downward.

"But it helped us learn something useful, at least."

Adelle turned to the White Mage, surprised. "It did?"

Gloria elaborated, "He said that Rimedhal's warning was the result of his prayers. But he didn't say it was the Lord of Dragons who actually made it happen. Doesn't that seem a little strange?"

Raising her hand to her face in thought, she continued. "Given that, and the fact that he refused to give a straight answer to my other question... I'd say we may have found the Fire Crystal."

"Are you the travelers who dare call the Archbishop's words into question?" A voice, approaching from the direction of the Hall. Turning to face it, our heroes came to see a muscular woman, flowing red and brown cape flowing from her pauldron. Her hair was beeline honey in color, swirling up in a manner resembling an inverted whirlpool. Beside the butch woman stood a figure Adelle recognized. It was the man from the execution, the man who harassed Martha... Bishop Helio.

"Well, he might have let you get away with it, but Gladys of the Dragon Guard certainly isn't about to!" She shook her head, looking down at the party. "You're fairies, aren't you?"

First time I've been outright asked...

Luckily for Adelle, it was Seth who answered Gladys' question. "Huh? Why would you think that?"

Intimidatingly stepping closer, the woman's height advantage was all the more clear. "Well, the fact that you doubt the value orbthe Lord's judgement, for starters. I've got a good mind to make you take a little leap of faith yourselves."

"Enough, Gladys." The man beside her spoke up. "Allow me to introduce myself. Helio, chief inquisitor to the Archbishop, at your service."

Chief Inquisitor? Not just content with "Bishop" anymore, are you? You've certainly climbed the ladder well for it having been only 3 years...

"Please, you must forgive dear Gladys. She can be a little... overzealous, in the execution of her duties."

Wait... Didn't Martha mention her friend Gladys from her childhood? Was this the same one?

Gladys made to speak, but Gloria cut her off. "There is nothing to apologize for. But if you don't mind me asking- what are these duties?"

Helio's smile was... unsettling. "We are charged with seeking out the detestable agents of fairykind wheresoever they might lurk, and submitting them to holy judgement. In pursuit of which purpose, we make it our business to establish dialogue with the people of the town, and with visitors such as yourselves. We shall pray for your safety on your onward journey. Lord of Dragons, watch over us all."

Helio turned away. Before Gladys followed, she issued a grim warning: " I've got my eye on you lot. Put one foot out of line, and I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks."

Once the two had gone, Elvis let out a sigh. "Crikey. Between those two and the Archbishop, this place has got its fair share of unsavoury characters, eh?"

"Right, that's it. You're listening to me this time."

Adelle had almost forgotten she was carrying Gwylim in her sack. "Huh? What is it?"

"Dad asked me to come and find you. That's the reason I left home in the first place! Before I... smelt the smell."

Adelle's eyes widened. "Gwydion sent you? How come?"

"Who's Gwydion?" Seth inquired.

"He's Gwylim's father. You know the Lord of Dragons everyone keeps talking about? That's him."

"What!? He's real!? And your pals with him!?"

"I, I wouldn't say 'pals' exactly. But I know him, yeah." She couldn't blame Elvis for being surprised. Guess keeping an air of mystery about her worked, though. "So, what else did he say?"

"He wants you to come to the Serpent's Grotto."

Adelle's joy at the upcoming chance to see Martha was only slightly overshadowed by her irritation at Gwylim's not mentioning it sooner! "Why didn't you say so earlier!?"

"Becauseyouweretoobusy shovinme in your bag!"

"...Oh." Adelle sheepishly rubbed the back of her head, closing her eyes. Had she really cut him off every time? No wonder he felt the need to say that last sentence so fast.

"And... it's quite comfy in there, so I might have been... resting a bit in between trying to tell you."

The irritation Adelle had felt was short-lived. Grinning ear to ear, she bounced on the balls of her feet, standing straight up once more. I finally get to see Martha again! No one else had clicked with her in quite the same way, even after 3 years of wandering. Elvis was close, but it... it just... felt different?

"Well, I guess I'd better go pay him a visit. You guys are coming too, right?" Her friends nodded in affirmation.

"It's north of town. Can't miss it. Come on!"

The group made their way north, fighting a few monsters along the way. It was much less bothersome, now that Adelle had access to Asterisks. She could afford to take hits, and as long as they did not prove irrevocably fatal, Gloria could repair even the most wicked of blows. Contagion was also no longer an issue, as she discovered upon fighting another Goliath at the entrance to the Grotto. As they made their way inside, Adelle noticed the place was alive with monsters who could not handle the cold outside. A Lux Element she fought dropped a Speed Bun, and although normally such were reserved for Elvis, to power his strikes... She felt a compulsion to eat this one. She pocketed it until the others were next distracted by an approaching monster, then took a bite.

It was... buttery. It tasted of freshly baked bread, and despite giving off no warmth still provided the sensation of bread still hot from the oven. Its innards tasted of both gourmet meat and incredibly potent nectar, the meat within almost melting in her mouth. It tasted like prime rib, drowning in its own tender fat. By the time she realised she had finished the bun, she found herself to have instinctively dodged out of the way of a Turan's assault. Licking her lips as she made to counterstrike, she mused over feeling almost a kind of... kinship, with monsters of its type. They and fairies were both born of flowers. It was a shame they couldn't get along... Although she couldn't deny having felt a certain affection for a particularly powerful Leannan Sith she had fought back in Halcyonia. Charm magic users were dangerous. They draw on feelings you have for others, and project about them an air evoking the recipients of those feelings. Adelle had thought herself immune, having none that she knew of for whom she felt feelings of... that nature, for... but subconciously, even then, there was one for whom her heart burned.

The Oberon Gem dropped by that Leannan Sith was quite pretty, though. It sparkled with magical essence. Perhaps she could find a use for it later.

"Och, you know the Speed ones are my favorite, Adelle! Can't believe you'd just go and nick it without sharing like that!" Elvis took care of his own Turan, finishing their current fight. Seth and Gloria had taken care of theirs while Adelle was eating.

"Hey, I don't make a habit of it! I just felt a... a compulsion. Like I needed to be faster. I'm sorry."

Elvis shook his head, shrugging his shoulders and turning his hands upwards. "Ah, it's too late to go sweating the details now, I suppose. Anyway, are we almost to where we need to be? These blue glowing mushrooms are pretty an' all, but I'm starvin over here!"

"Yes... we're almost there. Just a bit longer to go." Gwilym sounded as though he had just risen from a nice nap. It was a little warm in here. Warmer than she remembered, at least.

The party took out a couple of Ice Golems, though why they had chosen to take up residence in a warm-ish cave as opposed to outside in the snow and ice, Adelle knew not. As our heroes came to the glowing red circles indicating safe respite from monsters, Adelle noticed her old friend. She barely restrained herself from running up and giving her a big- Hug. She must show restraint as to how she thought around her everyday companions. She had offered but a parting peck on the cheek as she left, which Martha may not have been awake enough to process. She can't go all mushy the second she sees an old friend, could she?

Gwilym, meanwhile, had ducked out of Adelle's bag. As he scurried towards Martha, the Dragoon crouched just for a moment, to scratch his head.

"Oh, well done Gwilym. You found her!

Martha looked to Adelle fondly, taking in her new outfit. It was certainly more... Blue, than last she had seen her. Was that a martial arts gi? Her new companions seemed to be unusually dressed, as well. A pleasant sigh escaping her lips, she felt her mood improve upon seeing that familiar face. She never forgot a visitor; they were too rare.

"Thank you so much for coming, Adelle."

Adelle, nodding with a grin, responded just as kindly. "It's been a while, huh, Martha? Glad to see you looking well." The hidden color in Martha's eyes was slowly coming into focus again. What a blessing, to meet once more with her first human friend, the one which had convinced her of the good of humanity in the first place.

"Oh, sorry, everyone. Allow me to introduce myself." As she took a step forward, she brought her hand to her chest, bowing slightly. "I am Martha, guardian of the Serpent's Grotto. It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Princess Gloria."

"How," the Princess hesitantly inquired, "do you know my name?"

"Master Gwydion told me all about you. And about your quests for the crystals!"

"Would it be possible to speak with him myself?" Striding ever on and on, as always, Gloria...

"Of course. I'll show you in. If you'll follow me...

And so they entered the Master's Chamber.

"Master Gwydion, Adelle's here to see you. And Princess Gloria is with her."

"Thank you, child." The Lord of Dragons' deep voice echoed throughout the cavern, both aloud and within the minds of the party.

"Long time no see, Gwydion." Adelle stepped to the front of the group. Oh how she longed for proximity to Martha.

"Not so long that my debt to you has been forgotten. Thanks, once again, for your aid." Wisps of smoke rose up from the mighty dragon's nostrils, towards the top of the Chamber, as he stretched his neck and continued. "I bid you welcome, children of men."

"We are humbled, Master Gwydion," Gloria issued from a respectful bow. "You do us a great honour in granting us an audience."

"So, I hear you were asking for me. Is this about what I think it is?"

Casting his gaze upon the Monk, Gwydion spoke. "If you speak of the so-called judgements being passed upon the people of Rimedhal in my name, then it is indeed. My words no longer reach the Archbishop. What drives him to such acts of folly, I know not." Another wisp of smoke, sputtering in the air. "I swore when first Rimedhal was founded never to interfere directly in affairs of state. Yet I cannot stand idly by while those who honour me with their worship suffer. I would ask therefore that you act in my place. Please, Adelle- put a stop to this ere the madness deepens."

Adelle turned to her companions, seeking their cooperation. She sat on a small pile of rocks, the atmosphere of the cavern bringing a sense of... groundedness. "Well, I don't mind offering a helping hand. What do you guys think?"

"I can hardly say no after you dropped everything to help me and mine out back in Wiswald, can I?" Elvis turned his palms skywards, with a jovial shrug. "I'm in!"

"The Fire Crystal is involved. I have an obligation to act." In Gloria's mind, the question was answered before it was even asked.

"You can count on me too!" Seth chimed in. Oh, how he enjoyed having a "crew" of such caring friends. He missed his cat. He missed his crewmates. He really needed to ask that old lady for another boat ride soon.

"We are in your debt, children of men. In return, I will do all I can to aid in the recovery of the crystal. Gwilym will go with you. I pray that he might be of use."

Adelle decided the proper direction to look at the moment was anywhere but at the dragon speaking to her right now.

"Uhhh..."

"What!? What are you makin that face for?" Gwilym barked from the altar atop which he and his father resided.

"No offence, but you can't even fly yet."

"Grr... I may be small, but I'm a dragon! A DRAGON! I'll make myself useful, you'll see!"

"Ahh, yeah... We'll see..."

"Less o' the bickering, you two. The more the marrier, I say." Elvis didn't much care for bickering. He wondered when he'd next get the treat of a nice drink.

"Would that I might offer more direct aid, but alas, my life nears its end. The next time I venture forth might be my last. My body... grows weak, with age. Even leaving this cave wherein I dwell might prove too much. And though the healing herbs Adelle did so kindly offer unto me when last she was here have helped delay the inevitable, I fear it can be held at bay only a little longer."

"Please Master Gwydion," Martha's voice hitched, "you mustn't..."

"Grieve not, child. None may escape the hand of fate. Not even I."

"Y-yes, Master Gwydion..." Oh how Adelle yearned to hold Martha tight. To ease her worries...

Martha set about preparing a meal, as she realized the time. "Oh, it's late. Why don't you all stay the night? As you can see," she gestured to the worn surface of some of the mossy rocks, "the place is quite comfortable." They did look rather comfortable, the way moss was layered atop them. She could sit, for a while. It had been an infuriating day. She had wine tucked away, although she had but a small flask of nectar remaining; maybe about 8 ounces? She'd meant to gather more on her way through the Wayward Woods, but all the best spots for the flowers she liked were either hidden behind Mag Mell's obfuscating wards or too high up to grab without alerting her friends.

"Come on, you have to stay! A sleepover! It'll be fun!"

Seth backed away, just a bit. "Uhh, something tells me 'no' might not be the right answer..."

Elvis brought a hand to his face, stifling a yawn. "Why would we refuse, anyway? The place looks alright. And besides, we're all shattered!"

"Oh please, there's no need to be polite. It's just..." Martha twirled a finger through her luxurious hair. "Well, I could do with the company, to be honest. We barely ever get any visitors-" she brought her fist to her face as one would while contemplating at a desk, supporting her elbow with her other crossed arm, "Especially not big, strong boys like you!" A wink. "Come on, stay and play!"

"Uhh... Come again?" Adelle was glad Seth spoke up; she had felt an itching in her arms at the thought of the coming fight.

"You just can't help yourself, can you, Martha?" Adelle firmly rested her hand upon her cocked left hip. She was itchin' to spar just as much as Martha was, if she was being honest. Something within her was straining to free itself... Come to think of it, her wings itched. How long had it been since she'd had the chance to spread them, and soar through the night? How long would it be until she could soar once more?

"What exactly is happening here...?" Seth's voice hitched. Martha clasped her hands together; Adelle had brought back some strong looking friends, for certain. It was time to put them all to-

Martha noticed a look in Adelle's eyes that she couldn't quite place. She didn't have as much social contact as most would over the years, but... Her friend seemed... preoccupied.

Her expression wavering only for a moment, Martha once more brought her focus to the group as a whole.

"THIS is happening!" Martha twirled around, drawing her spear with a flourish. "Come on! Fight me! Pleeease!"

"Crikey. I did not see that coming." Elvis was taken aback, and Seth seemed hesitant as well.

"You clearly all know one end of a weapon from the other!~" Martha winked once more, sowing the seeds of distraction in her soon-to-be-opponents. "And I don't often get the chance to keep my hand in. Don't want to get rusty, do I?"

Gloria seemed unfazed, and Adelle seemed transfixed, but the two gentlemen who accompanied them were pointedly looking anywhere but at Martha's... choice of attire. Martha was touched that Adelle at least had caught on to her f- er, that is, fallen for the ruse. Martha couldn't very well get... She couldn't let herself get too comfortable with the presence of one person specifically. Constrained to the Serpent's Grotto and the surrounding region every waking hour, Martha relished in company of (almost) all sorts. But Adelle had only just come back after years, and would likely set out again once her business in Rimedhal was finished. She could feel her ears burning,flushed with feelings of affection, but knew her hair would hide it. Martha just hoped Adelle remembered what it was like to leap through the mountains, together. Master Gwydion knows Martha remembered.

"Seriously- just go along with it. It'll be much quicker that way." Adelle reassured her friends that the sparring wouldn't be a hassle. Adelle longed to feel the heat radiating off of Martha once more, and in battle that heat only intensified, despite the cold winter air.

"Ooh! I'll give you a minute to get ready, shall I!" Martha slunk across the room, fetching her training spears. There was a White Mage present, so using real weapons was allowed, but Martha didn't want to pincushion anyone. Stab wounds could get messy, especially if the head of the spear got all the way in. Barbed shafts were for enemies... not opponents.

Adelle caught herself wandering over to Martha, then back. It had been so long! They had so much catching up to do! But they would have time for that in the evening. For now, Adelle watched her companions place wooden edges along their blades, Seth's axe getting a little unwieldy. He would have to downsize to the Francesca. It was a small axe, but it could still catch a spear.

As the time grew near, combatants came to the middle of the chamber (or at least, the middle of the open space in front of Gwydion's altar) to signal readiness to fight. As soon as everyone in Adelle's party had gathered, Martha made her way to the center of the room.

"Is everyone ready?" Martha had an eager look on her face; she was excited, flushed with the anticipatory heat of combat, ready to pounce at any moment.

"Aye, we're ready as we'll ever be. Why, I don't think I've been so prepared for a fight in-"

Before Elvis could finish patting himself on the back for his preparedness, Adelle leapt for Martha. Oh, the joy she would feel at testing her mettle, and with one she meant to catch up with in oh-so-many ways! But though Adelle was fast, and even faster for her recent Booster Bun, Martha had beaten her to the punch. Adelle's fist met the space where Martha had been just moments prior with no impact; Martha had made for the braggart. Before Elvis knew what hit him, he was on the floor, reeling.

"Can't I have a moment t-" Elvis' pleas for a moment to showboat fell upon deaf ears as Martha spun to face the disguised fairy who had made another lunge for her, raising her spear horizontally in defense. Adelle grabbed Martha's spear to redirect her own momentum, doing a frontward handspring off the spear and launching herself further past Martha; as she twisted in the air to turn and face Martha, Adelle overshot, and needed a moment to regain her footing. It'd be easier to control herself in the air if she were allowed to use her wings, Adelle lamented. But she'd created an opening.

Seth, taking advantage of Martha's preoccupation with Adelle, raised his axe skywards.

"Elemental Wheel!"

The sailor's Gambling wheel spun, and in an instant gave results. 3-Null. Three nonelemental blows connected with Martha, one after the other, from different directions.

Grunting in pain, Martha swung the end of her spear into Seth's side, and as she knocked the wind out of Seth, she grabbed him by the collar and jumped; up, up into the air she went, until she neared the very top of the cavern, and she broke her impact by smashing Seth into the ceiling. The CRUNCH that echoed throughout the cavern made Adelle's companions wince, but Martha wasn't done. She pulled Seth free from the segments of the wall within which he had been partially embedded... and shot like a rocket towards Elvis, adjusting course at the last moment by pushing off of Seth, throwing him into Elvis.

Elvis, for his part, had expected this fight to be easier for him than it had been. How would he have known Martha could lift a man in heavy armor and lift him to the heavens above? Who in blazes could've expected Seth to be used as a projectile?

Those have to be some damned powerful legs, were the last of Elvis' thoughts in the split-second before Seth collided with him.

As Martha heard the clatter of a kicked stone behind her and to her right, she thought she had the advantage at this point in the fight. Two of her three opponents were down and out, so Adelle must be-

Martha had fallen for Adelle's trick. Adelle, from Martha's 8-o'clock, had sent a rock skipping across the floor, the spin placed upon the stone taking it towards Martha from her 5-o'clock, misleading her sense of direction. Too late, Martha realized she had been tricked; Adelle launched herself towards Martha in the blink of an eye. Her fist connected with the sidepiece of Martha's armor just as Martha had tried to jump upwards to escape and re-evaluate the situation, the force of Adelle's punch launching Martha's ungrounded form into the stone wall clear across the cave. Martha noticed Adelle's force was directed in such a manner as to distribute the force of impact evenly across as wide an area as possible, and only directly upon her armor; the punch itself didn't hurt nearly as much as the back of her head hitting the wall.

I hope I didn't hurt Martha too bad, was all Adelle could think as Gloria started healing everyone up.

#marthadelle #bd2 martha #bd2 adelle #adelle ein #the color of affection #bd2 fanfic #i dont think im gonna finish this any time soon so i might as well post it. ignore the typos i didnt have a chance to finish the chapter #so i never did any editing

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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

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“How Did All This Happen?”- A Memoire by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng 2

wow. okay. so first off i dont have an update schedule but im on winter break starting next monday so i just have a lot of time on my hands. if this progresses into next year updates wont be as frequent. hell updates probably wont be as frequent next week either. who knows not me. Also i have a few spots left open on the tag list for those who were wondering.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

without further ado

People Fucked Up and Now It’s All Marinette’s Mess to Clean Up II

Marinette knew how she ruined the eastern coastline, but for all that is magical she could not fathom how that team of hero proteges managed to completely decimate the western side. She knew they were capable of it though, Constantine had warned her that they had an interesting habit of bending, if not outright breaking, the rules and legislation of the UN. He had also warned her that the group of Justice League mini-me’s had a unique calling card. The symphony of everything going to total shit in the background was the declaration of their presence on the island. She hasn’t even seen them from her new cliffside perch but she knew they were there by the distinct sounds of explosions. God, she hoped that super son wasn’t there. And she really hoped he didn’t get his indestructible hands on the magical dagger and destroyed it. It was one thing to return from this mission empty handed. It was an entirely different kettle of fish to return and join her grandfather in having “Broken a magical artifact” added to her list of crimes against the universe. Adrien would never let her live it down. No, Chloe would never let her live that down. She probably would put it on her headstone or something.

Deciding she has wasted enough time, Marinette began enacting one of her contingency plans in hopes of salvaging this night. She had brought the Tiger, the Horse and the Cat miraculouses for this mission, fearing that a Ladybug Cure would bring too much attention to her and her family. She was right in that fear because reconstructing two coastlines would not fly under international radar.

She called upon the magic of the Tiger, camouflaging with the scenery as she made her descent back to where Kobra himself hopefully still was.

She found him making his escape from the hellfest that was once their base of operation, followed by two other members. Marinette begrudgingly gives her thanks for the intruding hero team who distracted the cult from her presence and created enough wreckage that forced the cult members into separating. Sneaking up from behind, she jumped on the shoulders of the one furthest back. A swift jab to his throat, and Marinette was using his falling body as a springboard to kick the second cultist. At this point Kobra was aware of her presence and tried to attack her. Keeping the magical dagger on his person, he moved to grab Marinette by her hair. Extending the claws from her panja bracelet, Marinette slashed Kobra by his outstretched hands and used her semi-sentient tiger’s tail to retrieve the dagger. Before Kobra could regain his bearings, Marinette merged the Tiger and the Horse and made a hasty escape to her hideout.

She was greeted to the sight of her grandfather who Marinette believed was entirely too relaxed, enjoying some mint tea as he watched the night sky be curtained by smoke mushrooms from the nearby island. He was reclined in one of the couches in their AirBnB back in Trinidad. She dropped her transformations, Roaar and Kaalki flying to the kitchenette. Plagg slowly came out of Marinette’s purse and pointedly avoided her gaze. So the hellcat did have a guilty conscience, she lamented. Who knew? Apparently accidentally sneezing from the sand on the beach of Santa Prisca, and leaving behind a new cliff, was not one of the Destruction god’s finer moments. If he had any.

“Don’t tell Tikki,” he began. And look, actual names, he must have been really embarrassed if that’s how he’s referring to his counterpart.

“Don’t tell me what?” The answering scream Plagg released was actually comical and Marinette decided to be merciful. “Don’t worry Tiks, just a hiccup in the mission but all is well now.” Plagg looked at Marinette like he was about to lay worship to her for not selling him out. He took it in stride and joined the other Kwamis on the counter, already with a cheese wedge in hand.

“You did well, Mei,” her grandfather began. “I will report to Constantine and we will discuss further in the morning. For now get some sleep.” That was a dismissal if Marinette ever heard one so she placed the panja bracelet and the glasses, the tiger and horse miraculouses, back in the box and retreated to her room. A quick shower and a call to her parents later, Marinette was left awake in her room. Bored.

Plagg soon joined her, and despite his earlier reservations, he was brimming with chaotic energy. He had an idea and nothing spelt trouble faster than Plagg’s ideas. Apparently Plagg was curious about what the other young heroes were even doing on the island and wanted to know more. Now Marinette had half a mind to tell him to go by himself and leave her out of it. But she was kind of curious too. They weren’t after the dagger, that much she figured, or else Constantine would have had them go for it instead. So why were they there? A voice that sounded painfully like Kagami in her head told her not to be bullheaded and leave well enough alone.

Ignoring that advice, Marinette went to the den to retrieve the Tiger and the Horse again, the two most suitable for reconnaissance missions. Plagg, of course, would still be accompanying her for it was his shitty idea anyways.

“Going somewhere?”

The two turned to come face to face with Wayzz, Tikki and Master Fu, all wearing matching faces of disappointment but not surprise.

“We were just going to stake out the island again, figure out what the other hero team were up to.” Marinette was not going to quiver under their gazes. No. Nope. Her maman may not have been an assassin, but she still didn’t raise a weak bitch. Hell, she shadowed one of the most feared assassins for her more formative years. She. Would. Not. Break.

“Why?”

“It was Plagg’s idea.” She broke.

“HEY!” No offense to Plagg, but he was the only one out of the two of them that was immortal, he could survive Tikki’s ire.

“It’s not a bad idea, Master,” bless Kaalki and all their endeavors. “If the hero team were not after the dagger, but still after the Cult of the Kobra, investigating would provide valuable insight to what plans the cult had for the dagger in the first place. And perhaps, allow us to put in cautionary measures to prevent the cult from finding other magical means to meet their ends.”

“Yeah, what they said.” Marinette wasn’t all in favor of extending the mission if they did find anything concerning, but she committed to this idea and she’s going to see it through. Logical rational and self-preservation be damned.

Taglist:

@deathwishy @neakco @ virtualreading @f-rget-lt @your-resident-chicken-nugget @nathleigh @toodaloo-kangaroo @irontimetravelflower @trippingovermyfeet @t1dwarrior-of-earth @tip-tap-tired @fidget-eep @thenillabean @officiallydarkgeek

#badass!marinette dupain cheng #maribat #marinette x damian #daminette #damimari #guess im back #idk what to tag this as #hdath #almost forgot that one

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hypernigma · 3 years ago

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i think you people need some unhinged jon content

- he uses 4 in one shampoo, conditioner, bodywash and deodorant

- in his professor days any time a student emailed him at like 3 in the morning, they'd get an instant, slightly cryptic response.

- he did not care if you showed up to his lectures

- this man does not wash under his nails

- an absolute codger and technophobe. refuses to update his notes to a laptop so lugs around every crusty notebook he's got

- hates the taste of coffee so he trained himself to stay awake for days on end. its truly a frightening sight

- there was an era where he tried to fear gas himself to stay awake

- he can dislocate his thumbs and shoulders painlessly

- wears his clothes to shreds, edward and jervis had to hold an intervention one november because jon's emaciated ass was not going to survive the winter in a fucking potato sack crop top

- when oswald holds dinner parties jon has a shower mandate or else he wont be allowed in.

- he knows how to line dance. harley is the only one who has seen him do it. no one believes her.

#jonathan crane #scarecrow #gotham rogues #batman

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avalcnrp · 3 years ago

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NAME. Iseult of the Red Hands AGE & BIRTH DATE. 35 & February 11th, 755 CE GENDER & PRONOUNS. Non-binary & He/they RACE & CLASS. Halfblooded ( Regenerative Healing ) OCCUPATION. Sellsword FACE CLAIM. Mahesh Jadu

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: abuse, violence, murder, prostitution )

I. THE QUESTION

Iseult, when asked, will say he was born from the sea. If you squint, you can nearly see it—hair like the lapping harbor, eyes lucid as abalone, teeth bared in pearly grin, heart just as blustery and wont to dash ships to pieces. However enigmatic a story it is, the bone of truth to it is this: the sea would not have him, and in her rejection he was born anew.

Their given name was lost to the foam, but they were born to the winter’s frosts. Raised by a hardworking mother in the tall-masted shadows of passing ships, one of which she swore would carry his faceless father back to them in a ritual that repeated each evening: her callused hands tucking the corners of a threadbare quilt beneath him, her voice low and like molasses, and a mythic ship that never came. The stories she parted with were vague. Only that he came from another land. Only that it was no fault of theirs he’d had to leave them behind in this one. When the youth was nine, she settled for a Camelot-bound brigantine. Mother and child stowed away in the merchant’s orlop in search of better prospects, soon to find the impetuous whims of the captain to be the arbiter of their fate. The ship had been set to sea for days by the time their presence was discovered.

There’d be no turning back to lose them at the nearest dock, a thrown schedule on such a ship was a femoral wound: they’d hemorrhage far more coin than two lives’ worth. Their trial was brief, the Captain’s claim was absolute: “to the sea, or to work for me.” So mother and son become cabin maid and swab—became consort and rat catcher. Became whatever they had to be to survive. They toiled for their safe passage until the long journey ahead fell short for his mother. “Infection came quick,” the surgeon broke the news to the youth before the captain’s cracked door. “At sea, sickness makes mincemeat of even the strongest men,” and while by nine the youth had seen so much, he’d never seen a sickness that purpled the throat.

Without her fearsome hand to guard him, the next slip up before the officers landed him at the ship’s rail again, the Captain’s hand snared in his collar. To the sea, or to work for me, became “to the sea, or your chances with me.” The youth was spared the decision, chance made it for him. The Captain produced a coin and flipped it, and he watched as it turned in the air between them, revolving thrice in those breathless, fear-strung moments, before turning up a Pendragon’s face. A benign, gilded face that imprints his memories still. But for now, the odds were not in his favor, no matter how he willed them to be. Maybe it was always up to the whims of chance and fate. Or maybe only this Captain, with his kingdom of groaning timbers. There was the brigantine, and now there was only the sea, the open sea.

Years later, a knife in his neck, Iseult would wonder if this survival was the first evidence of his halfblooded nature. Another one of fortune’s many jests. But back then, the longshoremen of the harbor that hauled him up in their net that day, dripping the salt of Camelot’s coast, chalked it up to impossible luck. To one of fortune’s many blessings.

II. THE ECHO

When he stopped retching seaweed, the harbormen brought the youth (of all places) to the town square’s brothel. The very nearest place with a spare bed, hot bowl of soup, and hosts willing to take in another mouth to feed. Through them, Iseult came to know the nooks and crannies of the world oft took shape around a certain closeness. The grand dame of the house turned out a far more hospitable guardian, and far more reluctant to have him swallowed by the sea. It was there, in the hearth-warmed corners of the kingdom’s underbelly, in the arms of their loud and vibrant leaning buildings, that the youth earned his keep. Earned a name, too. Iseult. “It means icy battle, for that chill in his eye!” The elder cook had argued. “No, it’s one who watches,” volleyed the counter girl, “for that owlish look he’s always got.” “Or iron ruler!” for the wise counsel he provided the women as he swept the brothel floors: “no, that colour pales you terribly. Yes, I think the lace is nice.” In the end, the only thing they could agree on was that the youth be named for a beauty: “noble in heart as in hair!” cackled the madame as she braided theirs back.

For women forged of mettle and iron and a youth brined by the sea, it was a home. They say it takes a village, and this would have to do: with heaping servings of stew, a bed, and plenty of work to earn his bowl, Iseult grew and grew quickly. Their broom was traded for bruised knuckles, as was the street’s way. Their familiarity to its denizens and the grand dame’s word their ticket, they made quick work of establishing a name as a sellsword. A quick study, bruiser work for the brothel evolved into contracts throughout Camelot’s underbelly. The grand dame only needed to point them in a direction: Iseult would be their own star to steer by. No captain nor deity could sway him (but a melodic pouch of coin never hurt). As for the bloodier bounty hunting, Iseult fell into it the way one falls asleep. One evening the grand dame called them back for another turn ‘round the home front. A Captain on shore leave had overstepped his place in her establishment, and so invited the madam’s merciless grudge. In Iseult’s pursuit, the trail grew warm then searing. It was none other than the man from their memories once more come home to harbor. It would be his last time. Iseult would make sure of that.

The encounter unfolded in the earliest hours, on a balcony by the shipyard. Iseult, the youth he once was stirred to a fury within, drew it out. In his wont to make the man suffer he became careless and was run through the throat with a dagger: pitched half over the rail and eyes affixed to the waters below as he bled. Only, he would not stay that way. The marionette and the invisible hand, Iseult wound back upright and sprang upon the captain, switching their places and forcing his back to the railing. The sellsword reeled a single, gilded coin from a breast pocket, its weight tantalizing in his palm. “To the sea,” he rasped, “or your chances with me.” The coin turned thrice, and a Pendragon’s gilded face turned heavenward.

Iseult cleaned the knife that’d struck his neck, sheathed it in the tyrant’s, and watched as the sea swallowed the last of him whole.

III. THE ANSWER.

When blood stains you it leaves an imprint long after the wash. There was no going back, and where remorse might live, Iseult found only hunger. Found only the outline of the brothel slouching in the city’s dark, windows yellow with warmth. Found only the underbelly, and the comfort in its litany of lives. He would make a name for himself there. And, turning the mystery of that night on the balcony over and over in his mind, fingers ghosting his own throat for imagined scars, he’d take it on faith that wounds would not find him here for long. Not yet. While the heavens, while whatever magic protected him, may well have something to say for it, he put his faith in something lower: the hand with which he wields his blade. It’s all the thrill of profiteering, when the bottom falls out and you’ve not even your skin to lose. The ‘why’ of it he buried deep for the duration. Drowned in debauchery, drowned in drink, drowned in card games and bets on losing dogs (for certainty is a comfort seldom afforded). In his youth, Camelot was an elusive land of promise, the way his mother’s words had painted it. A gilded expanse whose gates were long closed to them. Now it would be his lion’s den, and its underbelly would bestow him a fitting title. A name passed ‘round in fascinated whispers: Iseult of the Red Hands.

It would be such for some time, and each flirtation with Death would only deepen the affair. In the ensuing blur, Iseult would come to know how fish felt on the fillet block. Would come to recognize the subtle notes of poison by taste. Would come to know the thundering of hooves not just by their percussive roar but by the imprint of their shoes. He’s sure he can die as any mortal when the sword swings swift and true, but there’s no denying the extent of punishment his body can take. The speed with which it stitches itself back together. Where his line of work is concerned: such a talent is worth much more than his weight in gold. He keeps it close to his chest. God knows what the more enterprising would do with it.

Where life had sharpened his senses on its cruel and comic whetstone; the countless brushes with death would start to dull them, would whittle his edges until he barely recognized them at all. The magic that keeps him upright had a whittler’s touch too: the why of it, in time, would hollow him. He’d only ever thought himself human, and his mothers tales of the Otherworld just that: wishful thinking for the sort of journeys only the worthy have. Now, he thinks of it at the brothel’s corner table, taking supper with the aging cook. He thinks of it in line at the Bakery to buy his bread. While dealing in coin in the Town Square. He thinks of it in all the places where time marches forward. Is he human? Is he something less, or more?

Perhaps that’s why Camelot is where it must come to a head — laden with human and fey tension, Iseult swears it must be the one place where time’s march stops. This place that remade him, that sits so closely to the doors to the Otherworld, feels like an undeath in itself; and a recent summons from the knights of the round, to serve as a liaison and informant from the kingdom’s underbelly, even more so. Not to mention, the long, listless hours working contracts for nobles shying from their own dirty work. It’s been years since a coin flip could decide his fate, and years since his own hand could. So here, yes here, he turns the coin of his thoughts just as feverishly as the one in his hands. Here, he’ll swear on whatever life he must to find his answer: what am I? And if the answer is a creature of scorn, then why, Titania, why?

PERSONALITY

+ versatile, inquisitive, droll – insatiable, capricious, vindictive

PLAYED BY ISHMAEL. They/Them.

#taken #nonbinary #halfblooded #mahesh jadu #iseult of the red hands

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cryptidcircuslife · 3 years ago

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Hey, those who follow this blog. i have News.

guess who gets to use their running away tips? yup, me.

i wasn't expecting to this quickly. i thought i was going to bs my way through it because my circumstamces werent forcing me to as much anymore. i guess that changed

i'll tell you about my pre-running away process

I have roughly two weeks to leave. It will be in secret from my familys house. i have a seasonal part time job im being kept away from. I dont have enough money to get an apartment and i dont even have any job or housing prospects lined up. I have this short amount of time to get something worked out. I found two shelters i can stay at as transitional housing if necessary. i will not have a car. i have a ride lined up, however.

i didnt want to ask anyone for help at all, actually. i hate hate hate bothering people. if i were a minor, being reported is a valid fear. if i wasnt dead certain that i could trust these people, i wouldnt have asked. it is very good to keep your plans secret- and the less people that know, the better. i have to leave so soon (and carless/planless) because i accidentally mentioned part of my plans to the wrong person. so

1. be very careful who you ask for help, but trusted people can make your plans work so much faster and safer. i only trust people who: have been through similar situations or know about my past and hate my family - have no way of contacting my family - and ideally live in my destination city

Next. packing. i can bring a backpack, two duffel bags, and my scooter.

thankfully due to my room all my stuff is packed in a cupboard. so its not suspicious for it to all be bundled up inside. im leaving anything i wont need daily. only a few personal items. the urgency put a lot into perspective. i will buy food when i get to the city. i wont carry it.

2: bringing

7 days of clothes since i have space. only the accessories i will be wearing when i leave. light winter gear. a towel

hygeine- moisturizer, shampoo, comb, deodorant, toothbrush, essential oils to get rid of musty smell on my clothes, period stuff

half of my survival gear- self defense stuff, tools, paracord, tiny first aid kit, sewing kit, stuff to sell for money later.

water bottle, personal documents, wallet, phone, keys, a few small electronics, sketchbook, a jar of peanut butter, and all my pills

i have to so so nonchalantly do my laundry and stuff and just wait and prepare. its excellent acting practice. thankfully everyone is at work most days

i was not anticipating the adrenaline. its very neutral. it only became slight dread on the second day. it's bittersweet- a "damn this is actually happening, huh?" it gave me the motivation to complete a Lot of things. but i'm not done yet

3: things i have to wait for in the two weeks i have left:

my most important docs are locked away. i have to get to them.

i have to do my laundry. but i am only going to wear the clothes i'm leaving behind in the meantime so packing is fast.

i might have to make a doctors appointment. they wont be happy about that

i am going to try saving up some more cash with art commissions and such.

i have to keep searching for a job and apartment for later. find homeless resources.

once i leave its going to be interesting getting the amenities i need. depending on where i live it'll probably just be food and my medicine. i have a lot of eating restrictions so itll be hard

#running away

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patrocles · 4 years ago

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oof see I don’t think the old gods can come collect a debt from the starks by now. they had favor from an Old Bargain after all, and that already broke down — there isn’t a stark in winterfell, the starks lost ice, the builder’s wall is likely to come down or at least be breached (if jon letting the wildlings in doesn’t already count on some level), winter is here. i think the setup is more making new legends/remaking the world, which er... either bodes well for bran retaining autonomy from raven and the gods or bodes Very Very Badly. (and it is on the nose, yes, but i do think sansa is going to learn to fly in some way and that’s going to be her new legend, and i think it’s going to be something More than warging into a bird)

oh yeah I definitely see what you're saying (and tbh the destruction of Ice literally tore me apart cus it happened right after RW so it was like blow after blow of Stark desecration)

but i do like your point about essentially new mythmaking and rebuilding -- if history is sort of echoing in the present (specifically jon and rickon reclaiming their wildling roots, sansa literally building winterfell from memory in the snow is a pretty strong callback to bran the builder, arya the wandering wolf,), you do have to wonder what's going to come out of a Stark Restoration. not necessarily just dominion over the North but what happens if there's no longer a pact with the Others, how do the relationships with the Free Folk change.

There's a lot of "ends justifying the means" sprinkled throughout with bloodraven, rhaegar, tyrion, robb, and even bran. so on a larger scale I do think about how that applies to the Starks (or has applied... I think about the Boltons in this respect, Roose is harsh and cruel and rules by fear BUT his lands are peaceful (well pre-series cus now everyones about to kill each other lmao)). so was the stark dynasty vital to the structural integrity beyond just having power over land. (also george did say that the weather issue will come up or be solved so i wonder how that's gonna be tied in if winter is only a couple months and not 5 years.

i dont have answers to these questions, i'm just thinking lol

it is going to be very interesting to see how the starks rebuild themselves out of the ashes of pointed desecration and mockery of their family.

not to bring up the show (because once i start i wont stop), but i think of the things that makes the least sense to me was splitting them up at the end. of all the big like, End Game things that are pretty clear from jump (the iron throne doesnt matter, dany and jon are azor ahai, etc), the Starks Being Together is like.... fundamental. the lone wolf dies but the pack survives?? like you know they didnt read the books but that's like oh they REALLY didn't read the books lol (that being said jon is really the wild card bc the King Beyond the Wall foreshadowing is basically being yelled every other sentence with a blowhorn). i digress this is my long-winded way of saying rickon stark should not have DIED

#i like our talks friend :)#long thots

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taziidcvil · 4 years ago

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My Thoughts on RWBY’s new intro and chapter 1

This is going to be long so is there’s someone or something specific you want to read, I’d suggest using ctrl+f

WHITLEY

ngl i just want to start with my boy bc I’m so glad to see him back. Half of this is speculation and theorizing with no real merit ngl, but it’s something I’ve been thinking of for awhile

First of all this is a,,, very uncertain and conflicted look on his face here. He has his arm wrapped around his stomach and he looks very pensive. imo, Whitley’s going to be faced with a choice, one with no easy answer for him. And an answer that

might not bode well for the schnee family

Those clouds are, of course, Salem’s. Which makes me fear that Whitley may fuck up badly, and end up siding himself with the wrong people and it is likely going to be up to Weiss to bring him back.

Whitley isn’t a fighter. and if Whitley does cause the downfall of the Schnee family, he wont be at use for long. And once Whitley outlives his usefulness, there is no reason for her to keep him around.

But there’s a line that has been in my head for the last couple days. Namely Whitley’s line of ‘what could one huntsman do that an army cannot?’

Again, Whitley is no huntsman, but what it boils down to is ‘what can one person do?’ And I think Whitley is going to have to answer that question himself.

I do think that Whitley is going to have to act at some point. Do something that puts him out for the greater good. I don’t expect him to suddenly join the fight, but I do think he will have his Pacifica moment. Where there’s something that he is physically capable of doing, but emotionally and psychologically it’s a mountain to him. Something only he can do, and Whitley will have to be the one person who changes the outcome of something dreadful. And most likely, i do believe it will involve Weiss

NORA & REN & RENORA (but mostly Nora)

ngl i am STOKED for this divide here

I love renora. it is one of my favourite ships. probably my third favourite i have to admit.

what I don’t like is how its been going lately. while i do have the initial shipper reaction of ‘YES’ to the kiss, nora forcing it on ren sits wrong with me. Even more so their song last volume. It’s a bop of a song, true, but so much of it is nora telling ren to tell the truth only for her to tell him to love her. and while i’m sure he does love her, nora’s forcing it out of him and assuming is not healthy for either of them. Ren needs to come to terms with his own feelings, and these two need a wedge between them for a moment to develop separate from one another.

and while i think ren will come to understand and accept how he feels

i think nora might give up on the pursuit and will put their mission above her feelings

But I do absolutely love the focus on Nora and I hope that’s a sign we are getting her backstory this volume. Nora is going to be a major piece in all of this and I personally cannot WAIT

I will say tho that I think her siding with Ruby’s plan is a little,,, strange to me. She was all gungho for protecting mantle last volume and i find it odd that she’s not on team ‘protect mantle first’. i get that she needs to be in that group because of what is shown in the trailer, but personally i would prefer her reluctantly forced into that group because of her usefulness. to keep the devive, that would mean ren would need to side with the ‘protect everyone’ but I don’t think it would have been that hard to spin his mindset that way

I’ve seen some talk about winter maiden nora and, while i personally would have preferred it, giving the power to penny only to give it to nora next volume is a little,,, cheap to me. ignoring the fact that it would likely mean penny would have to die and i am not about that life

i still think penny shooting lightning bolts at nora to power her up would be OP as FUCK tho

CLOVER

NO I AM NOT USING THE ONE SCREENCAP OF CLOVER THIS VOLUME YOU CAN’T MAKE ME

WARNING: Talk about dead bodies. Both fictional and real.

now i won’t lie, i am avoiding that shot like the fucking plague so I’m working mostly from memory here

I have seen bodies hours after someone has passed. Unless the body has something what effects the colour, here’s a greyness to the skin. Yes, this includes all skin colours. there’s also a distinct blue colour to the lips though clover doesn’t,,, exactly have distinctive lips.

But seeing his body gave me the same nauseous and horrified sensation as seeing a long dead body. Of course not nearly as strong as he’s fictional and it’s animated, but it was the same. that sick greyness I’d expect from a body. ngl that shit,,, i wont say it triggered me, but it got damn close. it brought back memories and left me feeling very sick. It’s obvious he is very dead.

but even with that feeling, that didn’t stop me from being very fucking confused when I realised where the body was.

Now there’s a number of reasons that clover’s body would be there

They could have tried to save him and failed. They’re in a state of emergency and all the doctors are brought to one collective spot to deal with the potential rise of people needing medical attention. Maybe Atlas just works this way who the fuck knows. Most likely, they just wanted the Ace Ops to witness James and having Clover there just makes it easier to do that. but jfc if you’re going to have bodies in the medical area can you not install curtains??

ngl if i was at the hospital and they had a dead body uncovered and in full view of my room i would be

I didn’t want to go back and see that image again, so i poked around the clover tag to see what people were saying in case i’m dumb and missed something. but i think if they were trying to bring clover back, they’d make it more obvious. and they sure as hell wouldn’t have coloured him that way. but I don’t blame people for being confused about if he’s dead or not when they literally put him in with people getting medical treatment and give him a patient number

but talking about Clover fuck i miss you so much brings me to

THE STAFF OF CREATION (with mentions of ‘that’ theory)

Ozpin: [mentions that using the staff will make Atlas fall]

Joanna: [talks about plans to move mantle citizens into atlas’ crater]

While it is debatable what the staff will be used on, I think we can all agree this bitch is coming down. Personally I think it’s how the volume will end. with the staff used, and atlas dropping. It’s a fantastic cliffhanger but fuck imma be so mad if that’s really where it ends.

let me,,, get to that theory first. we all know which one i mean.

I’m not going to lie, i haven’t read much into it. mainly because i’d rather not get my hopes up and be pleasantly surprised than get my hopes up and be disappointed. Do i think it’s plausible? Well... after steven universe i think anything is possible. If it has even the slightest merit behind it I wont rule it out.

Do i think it will happen? debatable. i don’t think it was their plan but i also wouldn’t be surprised if they added it after the reaction to clover last year. but i’m not holding my breath. i’m leaning far closer to ‘no’ but i’m open to being wrong Do i want it to happen? god yes i fucking miss him okay i’m sorry i’m selfish i love my dumb fisherman himbo

the problem though is, if it can be done, there needs to be some form of payment. I know there’s been talk about a life for a life, and these are the options that come to mind: James: Don’t like this. James is a character rooted deep in the story and I think trading his life for Clover’s is,,, questionable. idk something about this doesn’t sit right. Especially when he has far more history with qrow than clover did. Tyrian: this feels cheap. trading a villain for a hero? that’s not even a payment, that’s hitting two birds with one stone. I do believe Tyrian wont survive the series, but this way is,,,, very cheap Qrow: pppppppppffffffttttt honestly this would just be a dick move that’s some monkey paw shit right there

either way, reviving clover would drop atlas and put both the people on atlas and under in danger. so the question is, is reviving clover worth it.

ethically, no. it’s not. one life will never outweigh thousands. but would my selfish ass rather risk thousands of lives for one comfort character? you bet your sweet ass i would. it’s fiction, see if i care. storywise tho, we probably shouldn’t

But there’s nothing in the OP to suggest that Qrow is after the staff. and while it could be left for volume 9, i don’t see this volume lasting without dropping atlas after this volume started with the reminder that’s what would happen.

but ruby is shown reaching for it. (also is it just me or do those look like nuckelavee arms?) which makes me wonder just what she could want it for. Sure, she could be reaching to protect it, and that’s highly possible. but if we’re already talking about bringing characters back, i would not be too surprised if ruby considers the same idea. Namely with summer (though pyrrha is also an option). If she does consider that though, I don’t think she’ll succeed. and I doubt she’d really try if she knows atlas would fall.

though if she wants to use it to save the world, if there’s something she can make with it that will stop salem, then i might believe she’d risk it. but even then i have a hard time believing she’d risk peoples lives.

but who else could and can get her hands on the staff?

PENNY

our sweet and dear penny, who has already suggested giving herself over to salem. and who is shown divided and framed opposing the team

While her being hacked is an option, and one i think james would consider letting watts do, from a story point I believe it’s far more interesting if penny is the one to decide this for herself.

Penny is a protector. And she wants to protect everyone. And one way she could possibly do that is by cooperating with salem. And with that gd whale having docking stations and a whole damn room inside it, penny going to salem fits with the whole ‘being eaten by a whale’.

and if penny is the cause of atlas dropping, that girl is going to be dealing with even more guilt than she already has.

JAMES

me: okay, i know james shooting oscar was a big dick move, but james has done so many good things too. imo it’s questionable writing, but james’ stance is understandable. he’s still a good person-

listen. listen. listen. I... i don’t know what the fuck the writers are doing with this one. it would have been just as easy to arrest him but we just... gun happy i see. but james being gun happy makes me very nervous for qrow and that ‘if you were one of my men, i’d have you shot’. qrow’s out for james’ blood, but I don’t think qrow could ever actually kill him. and normally i don’t think james could try and kill qrow, but these are,,, not normal circumstances, and james has a semblance that will absolutely help him pull the trigger

i still love james. and i still understand both sides of the fight. and i still believe james is a good person. there’s so many good things james has done, but fuck if the writers aren’t trying their hardest to make the fandom hate him. and for the most part, it’s working. my gf already hates him lol

when all is said and done, there’s a lot that james is going to feel guilt for, but it’s guilt he’s willing to bare

while i understand the reason behind making james the bad guy, i will admit that i’m bitter about it. namely because in volumes 2 and 3 there were so many people expecting james to be bad, only for him to prove himself as a good person. and now the story is doing its best to take that back

THE ACE OPS

Again, one of the main reasons i think they put clover there and confused the fuck out of people. I think there’s going to be a divide in the ace ops, and i think we see which side people fall on here

harriet and vine are going to be harder to turn, but i think this moment just planted some uncertainty in elm and marrow. I dont think it’ll be an instant thing, but this isn’t something they’re going to forget. this is going to bother them for a good long while. yeah, the writers are trying to turn the fandom on james, but storywise it’s planting the seeds of betrayal and giving the ace ops a reason to switch sides. but i don’t think they’ll come into fruition until the end of the volume

And while we’re talking on betrayal, Winter is edging herself closer too. but while i think she’ll turn faster than the ops, i also think she’ll be the most understanding and caring of james of them all.

Yang vs Ruby

pitting them together is honestly a good thing for yang’s character. they still love each other. they’d still fight for each other.

they may see things differently, and they may go their own paths, but there’s no animosity. they can work together and have each others backs, even when they don’t agree.

and that’s something team rwby/ornj and friends and james/aceOPs need to work towards

Yang was never happy with Ruby keeping secrets, and personally i think it’s good for her to voice it and go a path she sees as right

Tyrian (and nuts and volts)

we’ve seen a lot of tyrian’s smiles. he is a very animated person who broadcasts his emotions. in fact, the only time he ever quiets down is in front of salem

this smile is the most ‘you bitch you’re lucky mum is here’ smile ive ever fucking seen on this man grhueiorfubgnjfroe

look, i don’t think tyrian and arthur are romantically involved. but i do think tyrian is fond of arthur. whether that’s romantic or platonic is up for debate, but tyrian has always spoken foldly of arthur. tyrian obviously does not like cinder or her crew, though he does love picking on them while i dont think he has that level of dislike for hazel, hazel is the sort of person to not like unnecessary killing, so i don’t see them getting close. Arthur crafted him his tail, and he organized a plan where tyrian got to murder often. out of the bunch, i think it’s rather obvious arthur is the person closest to him, and I also think he’s absolutely looking forward to seeing arthur again

Emerald/Mercury/Neo

first of all, FUCKING FINALLY! MY KIDS HAVE NEW OUTFITS! now there’s things i like and don’t like about mercury’s. personally, i like his old outfit better, but he NEEDED new clothes so i don’t miss it! Emerald is looking GOOD!! i don’t give a fuck what anyone says, she looking fine as hell

hazel tho, what the FUCK did they do to your hair?? who the fuck did this?? how DARE YOU

that’s all i have to say about hazel bc boy is quiet but WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?? while we talking about new looks, winter is looking FIIIIINE too

Neo is, very obviously, finding this whole situation fucked up. i know a vast majority of us thought Neo would turn on Cinder, but at this point i believe she was content with finding a new reason to live. but the more cinder brushes her aside, and the more she gets to know salem, she’s looking more and more disturbed and annoyed with it all.

emerald is an obvious turn. with her whole Aladdin tale, i wont be surprised if she takes the lamp from salem and uses the last question. (i’ll admit though that i’m curious what salem’s question(s) is). now i still think neo will want to kill ruby, but i don’t see her staying sided with salem and cinder. i will say tho that I find it fucking HILARIOUS that salem has no fucking idea who she is. how much of cinder’s plan did salem even know? did she know about roman? did she know about mercury and emerald before they went to pick up her silver eye’d ass? Salem cut Cinder down for ‘acting without salem’s say so’ but how much of that has cinder already been doing before now pffffttt

but mercury’s the only one that isn’t showing that much hint to turning. and personally, that makes sense. Mercury’s been shown plenty of times being disturbed by it all. he’s always stood beside emerald, equally frightened or distrusting. but if salem is calm and mercury’s in no real immediate danger, mercury has always tried to play with the big boys. he has a better poker face than emerald and neo, but he doesn’t belong there nearly as much as he pretends to.

but mr pokerface isn’t perfect. the moment he notices cinder, his attention goes back to emerald, and he watches her. he’s told her before that cinder doesn’t care for them. he’s tried to break that to her, and when they come to face cinder he’s not happy. less so when emerald instantly runs back to her. he knows emerald’s goiing to get hurt, and while he’d like to think he’d be the type to say ‘i told you so’, he’s not going to take pleasure in seeing her hurt

but one think about emerald is that she reminds me a lot of nora. they were both starved and homeless, and were ‘saved’ by someone else. but cinder is no lie ren, and emerald’s gone a very different path. not to mention her ‘saviour’ came much later in her life, and nora is on equal footing with ren and has saved him right back. but nora has been shown to empathise with mantle and its condition. which makes me wonder if emerald will too. she described the attack on vale as ‘sad’. So emerald, how will you feel when you take in the situation in mantle?

CINDER

i’ll be honest, i don’t like cinder. I’m sorry ;n; she just never interested me. she has a nice design, but other than that i just,,, never clicked with her. but i am happy we’re getting a backstory for her. mostly because it’s damn well due, and for her fans. y’all enjoy your food

that is,,, where i’m going to leave it. it’s late and i need to sleep. there’s probably things i missed, and if there is i’ll add to it in the morning. but these are the immediate thoughts that come to mind.

please feel free to discuss. and remember these are just personal opinions and thoughts, many of which probably will lead to nothing.

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby spoilers #rwby v8 spoilers

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